


Tracks Redux

by m3aculpa



Category: Trial & Retribution
Genre: Child Abuse, Episode Related, Episode: s11e09 Tracks, Episode: s11e10 Tracks, Homophobic Language, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-29
Updated: 2011-05-29
Packaged: 2017-10-24 00:24:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m3aculpa/pseuds/m3aculpa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rewrite of 11x9 and 11x10: It's raining and it's cold and she's going to tell everybody about that little queer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tracks Redux

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Tracks Redux  
>  **Fandom:** Trial  & Retribution **  
> Rating:** PG  
>  **Characters/Pairings:** Maria Cole, Darren Lewis, Andy Harper, Darren/Andy  
>  **Warnings:** Abusive languages, hints of child abuse  
>  **Word count:** 1438 words  
>  **Summary** : Rewrite of 11x9 and 11x10: It's raining and it's cold and she's going to tell everybody about that little queer.  
>  **a/n:** I watched Tracks, cried and decided to re-write it. Probably my one and only in this fandom I can't even find a community for.  
> 

Maria stumbled out of the car, almost tripping over her own feet in her haste to get out. Her heels slid in the mud. They sunk deep into it. Very clumsily she put as much distance as possible between her and the car. Her body shook with adrenaline from her fear. She was starting to become angry now that she was out of the bloody car.

She turned slightly when she heard a desperate, anxious voice calling out after her,

“Maria, wait!”

The other boy, the one she didn’t know, jogged up to her and she came to a halt. The rain was dripping getting inside of her jacket and her legs were so cold.

“Loo-,” he broke off for a moment, picking it up again with; “look, this is silly. Look, where you gonna go? Come on.”

He seemed so harmless, but she knew that _Andy_ was still in the car. There was no way of describing the terror she’d felt when she realised that the car was not heading to the night-buss. Out into the darkness, to the chalk pit. She snapped at him, angrily and frightened,

“I’m not getting back in that car! Not with that nutter.”

The boy – slightly younger than Ray Harper’s son – tried to cut in, reason with her. Drink and adrenaline made her unreasonable. She was starting to catch wind and looked towards the car. The rain made it hard to see him, but she thought that he looked pale and frightened. She took vicious pleasure in it.

“I _knew_ there was something not right about him, even at the club! I should tell everyone, let everyone know about that little creep! Serve him right!” She turned towards the car and yelled at him. “What’s daddy gonna say about that, eh? Golden boy’s a queer! Little psycho!”

Sudden pain made her shut up. She stared down at her arm in surprise, at the hand that was clutching her wrist tightly. The anger gave way to her fear again. She was alone with two psychos in a chalk pit. Those odds didn’t look good to her. She tugged at her arm, trying to make him let go off her, but he wouldn’t.

“Don’t call him that!” he said and sounded so very upset. “Just calm down.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits. How dare he tell her to calm down?

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” she spat. “I’m going to tell everyone, I’m going to tell them that Ray Harper’s little boy is a fucking queer! I’m going to tell everyone. Everyone should know…”

The slap surprised her and shut her up. The one that wasn’t caged in his grip, rose up on its own accord to feel her smarting cheek. He looked sorry to have hit her, but he wouldn’t let go off her. Instead he leant in closer and there was a sense of urgency about him.

“You can’t!” the boy urged and his grip tightened. “You can’t tell him! He’ll hurt _him_!”

“Wha?” she laughed mockingly and sneered. “Ray Harper wouldn’t hurt his little _boy_ …”

Her words died in her mouth. A cold sensation of sobriety washed over her and she looked over to the car. Looked over to the drawn, terrified face over there. He’d worked himself into a fit when he thought she _might_ tell Ray. Now he was trembling. Hazy memories descended over her of him cringing and flinching in the car seat. Remembering Ray and his buddies and their little jokes and their demands and disgusting hands…

“He’d hurt him?” she asked seriously and felt like she was completely sober.

“You kiddin’?” the boy snorted and looked at Andy, his face softening. “He’d rather Andy was dead than queer.”

She could believe that. They were from the same neighbourhood, this boy and her. They spoke a language that Andy didn’t. And when he said that Ray would hurt Andy, she believed him. Because it wasn’t the sort of thing he would make up. She trusted him more than the boy in the car with his posh speech and neat appearance.

“Fine,” she said. “But you’re driving me straight home, you hear me?”

“Promise,” he said with a weak laugh of relief.

She turned and walked back to the car. Her shoes kept sliding around in the mud. To her surprise, she noticed that she was shivering hard from the cold. It was a god-forsaken night. What a completely mental night! She shook her head and crawled into the backseat.

The other boy had slid in before her and he was speaking quietly to Andy. She could hear Andy’s small, hitching breaths and see how he trembled.

“She knows my dad, Darren,” he said, voice quivering and full of tears. “She’s gonna tell him. What am I going to do?”

“I won’t tell,” she said and leant forward in the car. “I swear, I won’t tell.”

Andy didn’t believe her. He was murmuring the same thing over and over again: ‘what am I going to do, what am I going to do, God, what am I going to do?’. She could smell the terror on him; it filled the car with its sour, acrid smell. This night was beyond mental. She felt so tired and she just wanted to go home.

Darren, she was glad to know his name now, reached out and touched his knuckles to one of those smooth, finely boned hands. She knew that they were smooth. She’d grabbed them at the club and pressed them to her breasts. He’d turned red, she could tell even in the darkness, and had snatched back his hands as if burnt. In an indignant tone of voice he’d told her he had a girlfriend and didn’t want to have sex with her. She didn’t complain. As she said earlier: easiest five-hundred she ever made.

“She won’t tell,” Darren said softly, leaning into his space. “Come on, Andy, you know you can trust me, eh?”

Andy turned his head slowly. His eyes were wide and wet and his lips quivered ever so slightly.

“She won’t tell?” he asked.

“I won’t,” came at the same time as: “She won’t”.

“Trust me,” Darren said softly and bumped their shoulders together with a whisper of a laugh. “You fucking pervert.”

Andy’s lips twitched in an aborted smile. He took a couple of deep breaths and the shaking seemed to lessen. He looked up in the mirror to look at her and offered her a very weak smile.

“Thank you,” he said.

There was such relief and gratefulness in his voice, that it honestly stung her. She felt pity for him and it made her angry, because she didn’t want to feel anything for him. He’d dragged her up here and into his affairs… she hadn’t _asked_ to be a part of their dirty little secret. But in a way she understood – her father was a bastard, alright, but she wasn’t afraid of him. Andy was so afraid of his dad and what he’d do if he found out. She’d never been afraid of her dad in that way.

“Whatever,” she said and offered him a reluctant smile. “It’s none of my business. Just take me home.”

The drive back was silent. She didn’t engage them in conversation and Darren was taking swigs from the bottle of vodka. She wanted to ask for it. But maybe she had already had enough to drink for tonight, she reasoned. The silence, anyhow, went on as the drive seemed to take forever. It was raining cats and dogs out there and Maria could barely see the traffic. She was resolutely staring out of the window. The only sound was their breathing and Darren’s noisy swallowing.

When they reached her neighbourhood, she just jumped out of the car. She didn’t say anything and they didn’t call out for her. She stalked up to her building. It was clear in her mind that she’d never see the boys again (after all, she almost had the money necessary for her to start again in Saint Lucia). Something made her look back at them. The rain was finally letting up and she saw Andy resting his head momentarily against Darren’s shoulder. She flashed back to one of the pictures; it had taken over Darren’s shoulder as he slept and Andy was just in the frame. He looked so in love.

She almost smiled, but didn’t. It wasn’t her business whether they loved each other or not, or if it was just sex. She shook her head and entered the flat.

Could this night have been any more mental?


End file.
